The Barbecue Fork Killer
by sharpiedoodler
Summary: It took a while, but the FBI finally took notice of the small town with the fourth highest mortality rate in the country.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jennifer Jareau knew that today was going to be a bad day. It had started when Henry woke up at 1:00 am in the morning, because he had a bad dream. It got worse when Will had left in a rush at 3:00 am because a gang war had irrupted earlier that night. Then she spilt hot coffee all over her shirt, resulting in Henry getting to school late and JJ getting to work late and exhausted. Once she had finally gotten to the FBI building she had found herself receiving a lecture from Hotch, before being allowed to go to her office and start her paperwork.

As she opened the door, JJ felt her jaw hit the floor as she stared at the three giant piles of paperwork, that hadn't been there the day before. Her first reaction, someone, probably Morgan or Prentiss had snuck the files into her office before she had come in as a prank. But when she looked out the glass window that gave her a view of the bullpen she saw them all hard at work, with big stacks of paperwork too. Not as big as her's, by any count, but a substantial amount. JJ ruled them out as she saw Reid get up and Morgan sneaking two files onto his desk. She smiled a bit as she saw Reid return with coffee and a confused expression on his face as he saw that his pile of files had grown.

JJ stared back at the tower piles and she tentatively took one of the files off the stack and opened it. Inside were three pictures, one a normal looking high school girl, a sophomore maybe, nothing out of the ordinary, the next a picture of her lying on the ground, dead, with a bit of blood coming out of her neck. The final picture was a close up of her neck, with two identical stab marks. Underneath them, she saw a police report, which had ruled it as a murder, and the strangest thing, a barbecue fork had been the murder weapon. JJ frowned, but set it aside as she took the next one. Three hours later, JJ had looked over eight different cases, five of which involved two stab marks on the neck, two had been mutilated and had various organ missing and one had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck on the main floor, but was found in the basement. JJ frowned, something was strange about this town, and it was as if they had a different killer every week.

Two hours later, Strauss entered JJ's office.

"Agent Jareau, what do you think of these?" she had asked.

"Its as if there's a new killer every week," JJ responded.

"Exactly, that is why we have informed the Sunnydale Police Department that we will be investigating."

JJ frowned, "But they didn't invite us"

Strauss nodded, "True but this town, it has the fourth highest mortality rate in the USA."

JJ's eyes went wide, "Oh, wow, of course then, definitely. When are we going?"

"Today, I've informed Agent Hotchner, the briefing will be in an hour."

"Yes, I will have them prepared."

"Good"

As soon as Strauss left sat down in front of her computer, googling the town of Sunnydale, she gasped as she went through a list of death, funeral notices and newspaper clippings.

* * *

><p>An hour later, JJ was standing in front of the team; they were all looking at her expectantly. She turned on the screen; it showed a picture of Lucas White. The first photo was a school photo, the next was Lucas dead on the ground with blood coming out of his neck and the last was a close up of his neck, with two identical stab wounds in them.<p>

"Lucas White, eleven years old. Disappeared when he was returning from a friends house was found two weeks ago in an abandoned alley. His cause of death was blood loss and the weapon was a pair of scissors," JJ informed the group.

Reid frowned when he heard the word scissors, "But scissors are designed so that they cant cut into skin deeply and the marks aren't angled like the should be if they were stabbed with scissors."

The rest of the team frowned and Hotch gestured for JJ to continue.

JJ clicked the button again and an elderly couple appeared, "This is Robert and Judy Bennett, age seventy three and seventy six, two weeks ago, they went for a walk and were found hours later, dead, less than a block away from their house. The Bennetts both died of blood loss and the weapon was ruled to be a pair of knitting needles."

Reid was about to speak again, but Rossi hushed him.

She turned on the screen, it showed a picture of Samantha Wong, her school photo, a photo of her in a dumpster and one a close up of her neck, where two identical stab marks were.

"This is Samantha Wong, age fifteen. One day ago, she went to the local club, her friends say she never got there. Her cause of death was deemed blood loss and the weapon was ruled to be a barbecue fork. Another thing is that almost identical wounds have been appearing for minimum ten years," JJ explained.

"And these three only happened in the last two weeks?" Rossi questioned in disbelief.

"Yes, I think there's been over a hundred of these cases. Apparently it's gotten so bad that the papers don't publish anything on the 'Barbecue Fork Killer' anymore," JJ explained.

"So all the Victims died of blood loss, right?" Morgan asked.

JJ nodded, "Yes, but unlike the rest of them, Wong barely died from it."

"What do you mean, barely died?" Prentiss questioned.

"The medical report says that Wong was a few millimeters short of the minimum amount of blood humans need to survive," JJ answered.

"And it is also evident that the victims were killed at a different location, before being dumped," Rossi said.

"But why would the UNSUB dump the Bennetts on the block their house is?"

"Stalking maybe?" JJ said.

Hotch shook his head, "Stalkers generally only go for people of a certain gender and age group, this group of people is all over the map."

"What I don't get is why all the causes of death are so different when the wounds are all identical," Rossi pointed out.

"Well actually, each wound is different, thicker, more wide apart. White's look like they're deeper, while Wong's are farther apart from each other and she had more blood in her," Reid explained.

"Yes but why scissors? Knitting needles? These make no sense, its as if the PD don't want us to pit two and two together!" Rossi exclaimed.

"That's why will figure it out. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch ordered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rossi boarded the plane, very confused. The murder weapon made no sense. The cops claimed that they were all different sharp objects, but they all looked to be the same shape and he doubted that knitting needles could penetrate someone's skin so easily without any superhuman strength.

Garcia's cheerful voice brought him out of his thoughts, "Hello, mortals, Garcia speaking."

"Hey baby girl, what do you have for us?" Morgan asked.

"Well, Sunnydale has a 30% death rate per year, 19% were ruled to be accidental or animal attacks, stuff like that, 7% were big masses, like the Sunnydale High Graduation of 1999, 32% of the people that attended were killed and some were never found," Garcia explained.

"Wasn't Sunnydale the town that couldn't speak for two days or something?" JJ asked.

A second later Garcia replied, "Yes, it was ruled out to be a town wide hoax, although six people were killed," Garcia made a face, "Their hearts were ripped out form their bodies, everyone claimed they couldn't hear screaming."

Well, that was creepy.

"Anything else weird?" Hotch questioned.

"Yes, actually. The Sunnydale Graduation I was telling you about, the school was blown up almost immediately after, but they built a new school four years later. The creepy factor? The 32% that died, 18% died from blood loss wit the same stab wounds. Another thing, a lot of people that are killed, are killed or found in graveyards," Garcia told them.

"A cult maybe?" Prentiss guessed.

"Nope, sorry sweetie, but no one has ever tried to start a gang or anything like that," Garcia said.

"Why not?"

"No idea. Sorry."

And with that, Garcia shut down the screen and the team began theorizing.

After a few hours of flight, the only reasonable thing they had come up with was that the UNSUB killed the people, only at night, which could be an insomniac, killed them, before dragging them to a dump sight.

This would be a long case.

* * *

><p>Sorry its so short, this will be the shortest chapter (I hope).<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chap 3

Prentiss stared at the hotel in front of us. Or at least the small brick building a young couple had claimed to be a hotel. It was run down and looked more like a low budget prison, but considering it was three in the morning, Prentiss had no room to complain.

* * *

><p>Once they woke up from an uncomfortable sleep, spotted three spider and two beetles inside the hotel room and discovered a stain that looked suspiciously like blood, they headed down to the police station. There were four officers there, three men and one woman, all of them glared openly at them as they walked in. Prentiss looked around, there were three rooms, the main one we were in, a door on the left labeled: CHIEF CRAINYARD and another door labeled: JANITOR.<p>

"You're the BAU, right," one man asked, slouched over a desk with graying hair.

"Yes," Hotch introduced, " This is SSA Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Rossi and Doctor Reid."

The man with the graying hair introduced us to the officers, "Kent, Warden, Douglass and I'm Officer James Crainyard."

"Nice to meet you, Officer Crainyard. Is there an area where my team and I could work?" Hotch asked.

Crainyard gestured to a table in the middle of the room, surrounded by four chairs.

Prentiss almost sighed, thinking back to her hotel room and the cramped work place. This would be a long case.

"Alright, Reid and JJ, start drawing up a preliminary profile, Morgan and Prentiss interview the parents of Samantha Wong and Rossi, you and I will be at the scene of the crime," Hotch directed. Everyone nodded and proceeded to do their task.

* * *

><p>Morgan and Prentiss walked up the stairs to the Wong's house. Prentiss rang the doorbell and they waited for Samantha's parents to open the door. A small Asian fifty or so woman opened it up.<p>

"Hello, Mrs. Wong. We're the FBI and on the case of your daughters death. Could we ask a few questions please?" Morgan asked.

At the mention of death, Mrs. Wong began crying.

"Yes, come in," she said through tears.

The house was like any suburban house should look like. There were photos of the family, a few paintings and various feel better cards scattered around the house. Nothing stood out at all in the little house.

Mrs. Wong led them towards the living room.

"Harold, the police are here," Mrs. Wong called in between sobs.

A middle-aged man came down the stairs hurriedly.

"Hi, We're Agents Morgan and Prentiss," Morgan introduced.

"I'm Harold and this is my wife, Jie," the man, Harold introduced. He had pale skin, dark brown hair and eyes to match, although they were looking a little red from crying.

"You were the ones to last see Samantha, right?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, she was running around trying to find the perfect outfit to meet her friends at the Bronze." Harold told the Agents.

"Did anything seem strange about her that night?"

"No, she had exams in a few weeks so she studied a while before going to the Bronze," Harold responded again.

Moran nodded, before asking a few more routine questions. Soon enough they were on they're way out, with nothing odd sticking out at all.

But on the way, a photo caught Morgan's eye. It was a party of some sort with around twenty or so eighteen year olds in it. They were all smiling and holding up a ribbon of sort, except for the short blond girl who caught Morgan's eye. She was holding up an umbrella covered in sparkles.

"What's this?" Morgan asked.

Mrs. Wong smiled a bit, "Oh that's Jessica's prom photo, from 1999. They got everyone who won an award in it," Mrs. Wong pointed at a small girl in the front row, "That's Jessie. She won Best Smile that year."

At the word 1999, Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: The Sunnydale Graduation.

"Do you think we could talk to Jessica, maybe?" Prentiss asked, taking the photo.

"Sure, I think she's gardening right now," Harold told them.

"Thank you."

They lead the Agents to the garden, where the girl from the photo was gardening.

"Hey, Jessie, the FBI are here, they want to ask you some questions, okay," Harold told her.

Jessie nodded, before standing up and introducing herself.

"So Jessie, you won best smile right?" Morgan asked.

"Um, yes, why?" she responded.

"Well we were wondering, since you were at the graduation ceremony of 1999, do you know why so many people died there?" Prentiss asked, as gently as she could.

"It, it was that explosion, you know, it blew everyone up," Jessie responded, scratching her neck.

Morgan figured she was lying immediately. She avoided eye contact and scratching the neck was an unconscious gesture of lying.

"You're lying," Morgan accused.

Jessie straightened up, "Sorry, its just that, well, our towns weird, you know, weird stuff happens."

"30% of your year died, Jessie," Prentiss told her.

"I know, it's the lowest mortality rate our school ever had and that was only because of," Jessie stopped mid sentence.

"Of who?" Prentiss asked.

Jessie looked at the ground, shifting her balance from foot to foot. Deciding, Morgan thought, but what about?

"Buffy," Jessie said it regrettably.

"Buffy who?" Morgan pressed.

"Um, Buffy Summers, I think. Here, give me the photo," she told Prentiss. Prentiss gave her the photo and Jessie pointed to the blond girl that caught Morgan's eye before.

"What did she win?" Prentiss asked.

"Class Protector Award, the only one ever issued," Jessie responded.

Morgan shoot Prentiss a look of _is that even a real award?_

Prentiss shrugged, "Thank you for talking to us, Jessie."

"You're looking for the thing that killed Samantha, right?" Jessie asked.

"Of course," Morgan responded.

"You can't fight it, you know," Jessie told them.

"If we can't fight him, than we will have to talk to him. Don't worry Jessie, we will find the guy that killed her," Morgan assured her.

"No, you don't understand, it will find you!"

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked.

Jessie frowned, "Just stay in at night, after the sun goes down, its not good to go out."

"Alright then, bye Jessie," Morgan said and they walked away from the house.

Once they were in the car, Prentiss started asking questions.

"Did you hear her, Jessie called the killer an it, which is common enough for family of the victim, but she said 'thing' too. I've never heard that before."

"Yeah, this is getting weird. Also, Class Protector Award, I've never heard of that award before."

"Yeah well we better check in with JJ and Reid, they'll want to hear this."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hotch couldn't believe the attitude of the Sunnydale Police Department. They were acting as if they didn't care that the body of Samantha Wong had disappeared and that Officer Warden, who had been stationed outside of the morgue all last night, had been killed. As soon as Hotch received the call, he drove straight to the station and called the rest of the team.

Officer Crainyard showed him the morgue, where Officer Warden's body was lying limp on the floor. Warden was covered with blood, slumped against a wall. If Hotch hadn't known better, he would of said that Warden had been tossed with hulk like at the wall, but the Officer wasn't a skinny man. It would of taken considerable muscle to lift him up, much less to throw him at a wall with enough force to snap his neck and leave a dent in the wall.

The rest of the room wasn't in much better condition than Warden. Chairs were all over the room and a few x-rays were torn into pieces. The most worrying part of the room was the slab where Samantha Wong had been on. The slab was void, except for the thin sheet that had been covering Wong, which was in the same position, except for one corner, which was folded over, like someone would do to their blankets while getting out of bed.

Hotch gave the room one last look, before seeing a security camera on the wall. He turned to Officer Crainyard, who had been stacking the chairs.

"Officer, can I see the footage of that camera?" Hotch asked, pointing to it.

Crainyard turned to Hotch and shot him a small forced smile, "No, sorry."

"Why not?"

"The footage got deleted, accidentally of course," he said calmly.

He was lying. The subtle adjustment of straightening the cuff of one of his sleeves and the small pause he took before speaking proved it.

"That's unfortunate, how you deleted the footage of your own officer getting killed and a body being snatched," Hotch said, hinting to Crainyard that he knew he was lying.

Crainyard bit his lip, before responding, "Accidents are accidents."

"Right."

As soon as Hotch walked out of the room, he called Garcia.

"Oracle of computers here," Garcia said.

"Garcia, I need you to find some security camera footage," Hotch explained.

"Easy. Do you have the time or location?" she asked.

"Yes, it's the morgue of the Sunnydale Police Department and it would have been last night's footage.

"Alright Sir, I'll get right on that."

Hotch hung up.

Hearing the chatter of the team, Hotch waved them over. Once they had all sat down around the small table in the middle of the Police Department, Hotch started talking.

"Officer Warden was killed last night," Hotch said, waiting for the reactions of his team. Like he suspected, the team was confused.

"Was he killed by the Unsub?" Morgan asked.

"He had two deep stab wounds to his neck, but Officer Crainyard is releasing the cause of death as blunt force trauma," Hotch explained.

"What hit him?" JJ asked.

"We don't know, but it looks like he could have been tossed into a wall."

"Was there a security tape?"

Hotch glanced around, making sure the station it was void of the police, before responding, "Officer Crainyard is claiming that the tape got deleted accidentally, but I believe that he's lying."

"Why would," Reid started, before realization hit him, "Are you saying that the police chief is the Unsub?"

Hotch shook his head, "No, Officer Crainyard is saying that he was at his house all night. We haven't verified it yet, but I doubt that he's the Unsub."

"Then why is he hiding the evidence?" Morgan asked with conviction, "Unless he knows the real Unsub and is covering for him or if he doesn't want us solving the case."

Hotch frowned, "He does seem to want the murders to stop, but we need to verify everything. Morgan and Reid, I want you to verify the alibi, JJ and I will go over the crime scene again and see if we can find anything else about the Unsub while Rossi and Prentiss start a preliminary profile."

* * *

><p>Everyone nodded and scattered to their separate jobs.<p>

Morgan was completely lost. This seemingly normal case, or as normal as serial killer case can get, was spiraling out of control. The police force, that hadn't wanted them there in the first place, were now actively going against them and one of the victims had disappeared. They had spent the entire day verifying the alibies of the other cops.

"The Unsub could easily be one of the members of the police squad," Reid said, snapping Morgan out of his thoughts, "They all have to undergo physical training and have access to all the facilities. Even more, Officer Warden probably trust his coworkers easily, so he wouldn't of been on edge or worried at all."

All of Reid's points made sense, but things just didn't add up, "Doesn't make sense though, no one on that force could lift Officer Warden off the ground, much less leave a dent and this has been going on for a while."

"When was the first kill?" Reid asked, interrupting Morgan.

Morgan was about to get annoyed at Reid for interrupting him, but he faltered. Confused, he said, "How do I not know this?"

"It never came up, ask Garcia if she knows," Reid told him.

Morgan took his phone out of his pocket and began dialing. Garcia picked up.

"Queen of knowledge here."

"Hey Baby girl. Listen, when was the first kill?" Morgan asked.

"Aren't you supposed to know that?" she quipped.

"Don't remind me," Morgan shot back jokingly, "Do you need a minute? Should we call you back?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh please, I need four more seconds," Garcia retorted. Four seconds later, she started talking, "Well there's been animal attacks in Sunnydale since it was founded in the mid 1800s, a police force was only issued in 1862, by Mayor Richard Wilkins and then, wow, after only three years of constant animal attacks, the police force began listing the attacks as strange things, like a kid 1866 stabbed himself with a fishing rod, twice in the neck before bleeding out," Garcia revealed.

"So basically, this Unsub has been around since the beginning of Sunnydale," Morgan replied.

"That's what I figure."

"Alright, till next time Garcia," Morgan told her.

Reid stared at Morgan, waiting to hear what Garcia had told him.

"Alright, this case got more complicated," Morgan explained. Once he had finished, Reid was staring bewildered at him, not noticing the girl he bumped into.

"Watch where you're going!" she told him.

"Hey, no need to be," Morgan's voice trailed off as he looked at her appearance. She was student age, with blond hair that was tucked into a ponytail and her face had a bunch of dirt on it. One sleeve of her sweater was ripped to shreds. The girl's breathing was slightly shallow too, like she just finished a light jog.

"Are you okay?" Morgan asked.

The girl looked at him, confused, before noticing that he was staring at her sleeve.

"Of course, a bunch of bushes ruined this sweater. Annoying right, this wasn't cheap either," she complained.

Morgan would have brushed her off as a typical university girl, but he was trained to detect lies and not a word of that was true.

"Was someone chasing you Miss?" he asked.

"What? No, I just wasn't paying attention and the next thing I know $75 down the drain," the girl lied again.

"Alright, just be more careful next time, Miss," he started.

"Buffy," she told him, "And you should get in before dark, we have bad luck in this town." Buffy Summers, this was the girl that won the Class Protector Award? Morgan couldn't help but notice the repetition of the same warning Jessie had given him and Prentiss the day before. Stay in at night, what did that even mean?

"By bad luck ,do you mean the murders?" Reid asked.

"Animal attacks, actually," she said, shooting him a false smile, before running off.

"That was strange," Morgan remarked, staring at Buffy, who was running into the distance.

They continued walking towards the car, because they had wisely decided to park it blocks away from the house of Officer Crainyard, until Morgan noticed the quaint little blue house that the Wong family lived in. It looked nothing like it had yesterday. The beautiful little garden had been destroyed. Reid was about to unlock the car when Morgan motioned at him to wait.

"What?" he asked.

Morgan pointed towards the Wong house, "That garden wasn't destroyed yesterday, I'm just going to ring their door bell, make sure they're okay."

Morgan walked up to the house and rung the bell. He heard cautious footsteps, before Jessie's face peaked out from the window. He watched as relief flooded her face and she went to open the door.

"Agent Morgan, close the door quickly," she told him. Reid stared at Jessie confused, but they both entered and closed the door quickly.

Jessie looked close to tears, one of her arms was bleeding, looking as if someone had dug their nails into her arm.

"Jessie, what happened, are you okay? Where are your parents?" Morgan asked.

Reid approached Jessie, "Hey Jessie, I'm Dr Reid."

Jessie gave him a small smile, "Its over now, I just got freaked out. First night alone since, uh, you know."

Jessie was lying again, but seeing her distress, Morgan didn't comment.

Reid still looked confused, but he didn't comment either.

"I'll tell you later," Morgan whispered to Reid.

Just then, Morgan's phone rang, "Agent Morgan."

"This is weird," Garcia's voice echoed through the phone. No witty line, Morgan knew something was incredibly wrong, either that or Agent Strauss, their boss, was in the same room. As the call continued, Morgan's fragile understanding of the case disappeared completely.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the incredibly slow time I take to update. I couldn't get any inspiration or ideas for this chapter until a few weeks ago. I can't do updates on a schedule, just because mine is so chaotic. But this chapter the longest one yet, so treat that as a reward for waiting me out.<p>

Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Morgan could take a lot. He could take that Reid often emptied the coffee beans halfway through the week, he could take having to cancel most of his social plans the day before because he had to travel to another state and he could even take twisted killers that tortured and killed innocent people. Most people, including him, believed that he could take anything life threw at him, until he received the phone call from Garcia.

"This is weird," Garcia started, "So you remember how victims of this M.O have been appearing since mid 1800s, right? I began to think that maybe this was a hereditary thing, like some sick and twisted family passed it on to their children and so on."

"Whoa slow down Baby Doll," Morgan told her, "You're speaking 100 miles per hour."

Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan could see Reid calming down Jessie.

"Right. Anyways, I figured that I would look at the founding families that still lived in the area, like the Williams, the Rosenbergs and the Wilkins."

"Wilkins, rings a bell," Morgan remarked.

"You're right, Mayor Richard Wilkins was the first mayor of Sunnydale. He had one son, called Richard Wilkins II, who was also mayor until 1954 and who also had a son, called Richard Wilkins III, who became mayor too," Garcia explained.

"Weird, but that doesn't quite sound like a serial killer family, they tend to live in isolation, kidnapping people and then bring them to a secluded location. It's impossible to be in the public eye and keep their habits a secret," Morgan told her.

"No, it's weirder than that. Turns out that the Wilkins have always been the mayors."

"Small town, maybe no one else wanted to run," Morgan rebutted.

"No, people did but they often died mysteriously or suddenly withdrew their campaign form," Garcia said.

"Alright, that's weird, but its still impossible for the Wilkins family to be the Unsubs," Morgan told her.

"I'm still not finished. I looked up pictures of the Wilkins and I saw that all of them look exactly alike," Garcia finished, barely containing the excitement and surprise of this revelation.

"What do you mean, exactly alike?" Morgan asked.

"I mean they could be triplets," Garcia exclaimed.

Morgan's brows furrowed, trying to find a reason for Garcia to be saying this, "Old photos were blurry, it could just be a bad photo plus family resemblances that made them look identical."

"Nope, it's real alright."

"Not fake?"

"Sugar, I would know."

"Send me them anyways," Morgan ordered.

"Be ready," Garcia warned. A second later, a small BUZZ vibrated through his phone. Morgan immediately looked at the photos and at that instant, Morgan found out how much he could take.

The phone fell from his hands, clattering on the wooden flooring of Jessie's home. Reid and Jessie looked over to see Agent Morgan staring incomprehensibly at his phone. Garcia's voice was eligible from its place on the floor.

"Morgan? Morgan!" Reid cried, running over to his teammate.

Jessie walked over to Morgan's dropped phone, trying to find the thing that spooked the agent.

"It doesn't make sense," Morgan told Reid, before grasping him, "Is it possible that one generation of a family can look exactly the same as the next?"

Reid, alarmed by the contact, did his best to get out of the other agent's hands off him, but in the end, he gave up, "There's never been a recorded case and the probability is next to impossible, but theoretically, yes, there's a chance."

That seemed to relieve Morgan a bit and he noticed Jessie staring at the photos with a horrified expression.

"What are these?" she asked.

"None of your concern, Ms. Wong," Morgan said, quickly retaking his dignity.

"No, this was the mayor," she told them, "What does he have to do with the case?"

"Nothing. This is official FBI business that you have to stay out of Jessie," Morgan told her.

"Fine," Jessie said, taking a step towards the stairs, "I have a call to make."

Jessie ran up the stairs.

"What happened? What did Garcia tell you?" Reid asked.

"Something impossible," Morgan started, before explaining the situation to Reid, making sure to keep it quiet enough so that Jessie wouldn't hear.

At the end of the explanation, Reid took it a lot better than Morgan. He looked slightly surprised, but had nothing on Morgan's reaction.

"How are you taking this?" Morgan asked, after a few minutes of Reid just staring at a wall."

"It makes sense. Either the impossible case of genetics repeating it self in three generations, or on the same level of impossibility, fountains of youth, deals with devils to stay forever young and doppelgangers are mentioned in most ancient civilizations of Earth. Or it could be that the photos are doctored incredibly well," Reid explained.

Morgan looked ready to bang his head against a wall.

"We should call the rest of the team about this though," Reid advised, taking out his cell.

Morgan nodded mutely, thoughts swirling around his head. They had just seen pictures of the same man who should of died decades ago in freaking 1999 and instead of freaking out like Morgan did, Reid just took it and said that it made as much sense as doppelgangers and fountains of youth. But the fact remained, it made no sense, those things belonged in films and books.

"Hotch is calling a meeting. He said that Garcia had told him other things too. It's urgent and we have to go, now," Reid told Morgan.

"Jessie!" Morgan yelled up the stairs.

"What?" came the faint reply.

"Will you be okay if we leave?" he asked.

Jessie grumbled something about not being a kids before screaming that yes, she would be perfectly fine.

Reid and Morgan left the pretty suburban house with the ruined garden and walked to the car.

* * *

><p>Garcia POV (Just after Jessie hung up on Garcia.)<p>

Well, in her opinion, that could of gone much better. It sounded to her like Morgan dropped his phone. Garcia almost yelled at him for dropping it. Then, she was hung up on. Quite rudely too, not even a goodbye.

But as much as Garcia hated it, she had reacted to the connection a lot better than Morgan could of. Garcia had full on screamed, which had accidentally brought five or so SSAs running to her office with guns drawn, and only after three or five espressos, she felt well enough to continue.

After that, she had traced down the deleted security camera tape, which in turn, led to another scream, which brought back a few agents ready for a armed fight and forced her to run to the nearest coffee shop to buy another set of espressos, as well as have a small hyperventilation fit.

This was by far the weirdest case they'd ever received, which was saying something based on how many strange ones they got. It was forcing Garcia to rethink her entire stand of fantasy and that was driving her insane.

A sudden noise jolted Garcia back from her thoughts. She stared at her phone; it was ringing, probably just Hotch trying to get the info about the tape from the crime scene that was supposedly deleted.

"Garcia, did you get the tape?" Hotch asked.

"Yes Sir, sending it to you now," she replied.

A few seconds later, she head a, "Thank you Garcia."

"Wait Hotch there's something about the tape you should really know," Garcia tried to warn him, but all she received was the sound of the dial tone. Garcia didn't put the phone back on the desk, he would call back in a few minutes, no doubt asking her if the tape was meddled with or doctored. She was sure of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Arg! I'm really not happy with how the Garcia part turned out, but that the best I can make out of the pile of garbage I wrote originally. Gah.<strong>

**Other news, school started again so, this is no longer a priority. I will keep on writing this, definitely and I will try to get a minimum of one new chapter a month, but don't take my word for it.**

**Bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hotch carefully watched his team's reactions as they watched the video. They ranged from shocked to even more shocked. He took a deep breath. The next thing he was going to say was going to stupefy them,"Team, the girl who killed Officer Warden was Samantha Wong."

Vague confusion replaced their shock. Huh, Hotch realized, less than what he thought. This could actually go in his favour.

"April fools isn't for another few months, Hotch," Prentiss told him, a smile playing on her lips, "But good try."

JJ nodded, "A bit too soon, though. What with Officer Warden dying less than a week ago."

Hotch shook his head, "This isn't a joke. This is Garcia's recovered copy of the security tape that was filming at the time."

"Are you saying that our Unsub is some kind of superhuman? A dead college girl superhuman?" Prentiss asked, disbelief and sarcasm lacing her voice. Hotch frowned at Prentiss' outburst. He had hoped the team would be slightly more open minded about the whole dead girl killing someone situation.

"Look at the evidence Prentiss," Morgan told her, "What else could it be?"

"Steroids? A new drug?" She responded. She was panicking, trying to find a logical way for a dead girl to throw a armed security guard into a wall so hard it broke his neck, "The tape could of been tampered with! The Sunnydale police have already proven they could hide tapes."

Hotch shook his head, "Garcia looked it over. She can't find any faults with it."

"Maybe Garcia missed something. There are better hackers than her, not many, but at least three or four," Prentiss replied.

"When has Garcia been wrong before? And besides, this offers a reasonable explanation to how

"We don't know what it could be, but so far vampire is the only logical explanation," Reid exclaimed.

Everyone turned to stare at him. Reid was always relying on facts, disproving most things people believed in as disillusions or fakes, but here he was, talking about vampires.

"Don't tell me you're on the superhuman train too," Prentiss said, running a hand through her hair, "And vampire? Reid, we're discussing actual suspects, not Twilight."

"We've always followed where the evidence leads us, no matter how strange it's been before," Reid stated.

"Hotch," Rossi said, his voice was cautious, "Let's pretend that the Unsub is a vampire,"

Prentiss glared at him, but Rossi ignored her, "How do you expect us to fight a vampire?"

Prentiss stared at Rossi, as if saying _Is my team full of lunatics?, _"Forget the whole fight part, if, and its a huge if, vampires are real, how in the world do we get them into custody, not to mention a jail sentence?"

"We don't," Hotch's short answer rang through the room.

"We just let them keep killing people?" Morgan sounded exasperated.

"No, but if vampires have been infesting this town since the 1800s, we can count that at least one person in a town of 30,000 people knows about this and is trying to stop it," Hotch rebutted.

The rest of the team agreed grudgingly.

"Now, has anyone in this town, that anyone's met, seemed like they would know something?"

"Officer Crainyard probably knew about them," Morgan speculated.

Rossi shook his head, "He tried to conceal evidence of them from us before, he could easily do it again."

"But we have to keep him as an option, considering we have no one else right now."

"Does anyone know anyone who could of possibly of had the smallest knowledge of vampires?" Hotch asked.

No one said anything, so Hotch tried a different technique, "Alright then, has anyone heard of any suspicious activities or things thats happened in the town recently that left any survivors?"

"The town wide hoax!" Reid said suddenly, "Remember? Six murders and everyone claimed that they couldn't hear any screams. I heard that one of the victims had a roommate who discovered the body once he woke up."

"Better than nothing," Morgan said, as he brought out his phone to call Garcia, to see if the roommate was nearby.

Once Morgan left the room the discussion continued.

"JJ, you read a bunch of articles didn't you? For the case?" Rossi pressed.

JJ nodded, as she struggled to remember a few of them, "Fraternity house halloween party, one student was found dead in the basement, even though he had broken his neck by falling down the second floor stairs. A bunch of students swear up and down that all the decorations had come alive. All of them were traumatized."

"No bites though?" Prentiss asked.

"Nah, but there was a parent teacher night in 1998 that resulted in a death of one parent."

"Vampire?"

"Well, I remember the report saying something ridiculous about sticks, so I'm assuming that it was."

"Morgan?" Rossi yelled.

A faint "Yes?" came from the doors.

"Are you still on the phone?"

"I am," he responded.

"Ask about parent teacher night of 1988."

"Sure."

A minute later, Morgan walked back into the room, frowning.

"Well Garcia found the roommate," Morgan said.

"Where?"

"In a mental hospital, undergoing treatment for mental trauma," Morgan explained, finishing with a sigh.

"What about parent teacher night?"

"The official story is that a gang on PCP invaded the school," Morgan said, only to be interrupted by JJ.

"Impossible, no gangs have ever been formed in Sunnydale and no gangs have visited it either."

"So the police lied to the public that time," Reid said.

"Sounds like it. We have to consider banning the Sunnydale Police from the case," Hotch told the group.

"No, if anything, that will make them more uncooperative and they will probably hold even more evidence from us," Reid explained.

"Alright so, we won't tell them anything for now on then?" Prentiss asked.

"Exactly. Now Morgan, did Garcia give you any witnesses?"

"Oh, she gave me a list," Morgan exclaimed, "Willow Rosenberg, Lucy Broderick, Anthony Charleston, Buffy Summers, Jacob McGrew—"

"So a few then," Rossi said, "Is there any guarantee that any of them actually saw the vampires?"

"No, most of the reports said that they were in a different part of the school, only one student was reportedly in danger."

"Who?"

"A Buffy Summers," Morgan revealed, "According to a few parents who got trapped in a closet with her, Buffy climbed out the vents into the hallway," Morgan looked at Reid while he was explaining.

Reid got a puzzled look on his face, "Wasn't she the one who we ran into a few hours ago?"

"That's her alright."

"How do you know Miss Summers?" Hotch asked.

"We were walking back to the car and we bumped into her and thought that she had been attacked," Morgan explained, "Her sweater had been ripped, but she claimed that she had fallen into a bush."

"She was a good lier, very experienced, even with authority figures," Reid said.

Rossi frowned, "We'll keep a lookout for her, but she is probably just some unlucky college student."

The rest of the team agreed.

"Is there anything else we want to pay attention to?"

The team looked around at each other, before answering no.

Hotch sighed, "Considering this is our only lead right now, we'll approach it an open mind," He said eyeing Prentiss, "JJ and Reid can visit the mental asylum, try to find out more about the halloween murder. Morgan, Reid, find the Summers girl too. Find out if she's lying to you to hide the vampires or just a trivial thing. Rossi and I will hold the fort, try to find the other things the Sunnydale Police have covered up. Report back to us if you find anything."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh wow, I'm kind of in a stupor right now, because I just realized that it's been over half a year since I first published The Barbecue Fork Killer. One of the things thats kept me going (however sporadically) was the amazing reviewers, followers and everyone else who managed to get to chapter 6. Seriously, thank everyone who's managed to actually stick with me to get to chapter 6. If anyone has any questions, comments, ideas for the story don't hesitate for a second to review or PM me, it's really nice to know that people take time to write something for you. I feel like this is starting to repeat, so all in all, thanks for reading this.<strong>

***Updated October 9th, 2015 **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jennifer Jareau really wasn't enjoying this case, not that she enjoyed most of them, but this one in particular seemed to be sadistic. She wasn't enjoying the shack of a hotel room she was stuck in, or the fact that the coffee was always too cold. The fact that Officer Crainyard was hiding the truth made things even worse. And the five hour dive to Bretching Institute to visit a lead who wasn't sane wasn't doing anything to cheer hr up.

JJ parked the SUV in Bretching Institute's parking lot. It was the only car in it, making her and Reid stick out like neon sign in a snow storm. The two made their way to the door and opened it, ending up in a sterile, blank looking lobby.

The secretary, a bored lady in her mid forties with a nose that looked remarkably like a beak didn't even look up from her computer screen. "Welcome to Bretching Institute. Is there anything I can do for you?"

JJ approached the desk, "I made arrangements to talk to Chris Stevens about the night of the crime."

"The doctors have been notified. Take the elevator to floor three, room 339," She told them. JJ and Reid arrived at room 339.

Reid raised his hand to knock, before a doctor from the other side of the hallway yelled at them, "No!"

Reid froze as the doctor sprinted towards them. He was a stick thin man, so tall that his white coat barely went to his mid thighs. His lips were as narrow as his body and his voice sounded like someone had clogged up his throat with a tennis ball.

"Is something the matter Doctor," JJ squinted at his name tag, "Anderson."

"Yes! Quite! Firstly, who are you people and secondly, why are you knocking on Mr. Steven's door?" He demanded.

Reid fished his FBI badge out of his bag, "FBI. We made arrangements to talk to Chris Stevens."

The Doctor groaned, "I thought you were coming in a week."

"You were misinformed, Doctor. Now, can we go into his room?" Reid asked.

"Well, I suppose, but you can't make any loud noises. Even the slightest thing sets him off," The Doctor warned them, unlocking the door.

"Thank you," JJ said, opening it. The room was blank. The only sign that someone lived there was the vase of dried out flowers and the man in the rocking chair. He looked student aged, with short brown hair and eyes to match. If he hadn't been in a mental asylum, JJ wouldn't of thought anything of him.

"Mr. Steven? Chris?" JJ asked.

The man flinched, "Who is it?" His voice was dull.

"FBI. I'm SSA Jareau, this is my co-worker, Doctor Reid," JJ introduced.

The man let out a bitter, hollow laugh, "Another Doctor? I thought they'd given up on me by now."

"I'm not a medical doctor, Mr. Stevens," Reid informed him, sitting down on a white chair, "We need to talk to you about the night of the crime."

The man froze. "What do you want to know?" He whispered.

Reid stared up at the man, "Was it a hoax?"

The man laughed again, "They're still asking about that? Of course it wasn't a hoax! Do you think I would of slept through my roommate's brutal murder without waking up?"

"Well Mr. Stevens, the idea that an entire town suddenly couldn't talk is just as improbable," Reid argued.

"Well considering both happened, you should probably rethink your definition of improbable," Stevens responded.

"So, to be clear, you are telling us that the entire town stopped speaking," JJ checked.

"Ask anyone who was there. They'll tell you," He snorted, "Actually, they won't. Sunnydale has this incredible tendency to ignore everything about them. You know, a friend of mine warned me about the place, he told me all about the weirdnesses of Sunnydale. The little unspoken rules that each little citizen obeyed. Not going out after dark, not visiting graveyards especially." He got a little crazed look in his eyes. Stevens crouched lower to Reid and whispered, "We don't even run the place anymore. It's all the monsters! The demons! They are the real citizens! We're just the cattle! The meat!"

Reid backed away, "Thank you, Mr. Stevens. It was a…pleasure talking to you."

Stevens stood up, his eyes glinted madness, "Everyone knows, but no one cares! No one cares!"

JJ opened the door.

"Sunnydale is a doomed town, full of monsters! Even the protecter can't slay all of them!"

Reid and JJ quickly existed the room. A moment later, they heard two fists banging on the door. JJ could still hear his muffled voice, screaming and yelling.

Doctor Anderson was waiting next to the door, leaning against the wall, "It's not often Mr. Stevens can stay calm long enough to finish a whole conversation. If you would like, I can escort you outside."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Once they were in the elevator, Doctor Anderson began talking, "I'm sorry about that, Mr. Stevens is very disturbed."

JJ waved him off, "We're used to that, Doctor. But we do have a few more questions for you, if it's alright?"  
>The doctor hesitated, "I have work to do."<p>

"It would only take a few minutes," JJ told him.

The Doctor sighed and begrudgingly nodded.

"Thank you, now was it possible Mr. Stevens had gone temporarily deaf the night of the murder?"

The Doctor shook his head, "One of the first things we checked for."

"And the monsters he was talking about—"

The doctor cut Reid off, "Nonsense. Mr. Stevens has been going on about them for his entire stay here. We believe they might be a corporal way to deal with his guilt."

"Yes, but about the monsters, did he ever mention a type?" Reid asked.

The Doctor fixed him with bafflement all over his face, "Type? Like Frankenstein? Or zombies?"

"Yes, exactly," Reid said.

"Well, he does talk a lot about vampires, but it does make sense considering what happened during his trauma, with it being nighttime and the blood around he crime scene," The Doctor told him, "But I don't see why it matters. Mr. Stevens isn't in his right mind."

JJ answered for Reid, "Every little bit helps."

The Doctor nodded, still not looking very convinced, "Is that all?"

"Yes and thank you again, Dr. Anderson," JJ said, leaving the building with Reid. As she suspected, they easily found the black SUV.

The car was muggy and hot, JJ felt like a pie, slowly roasting in an oven. Even her seatbelt tried to burn her.

"I guess this confirms our vampire theory," Reid said, "As well as the hoax not being a hoax."  
>JJ frowned, "Are you sure? Stevens didn't seem all there."<p>

"He was right about the vampires, wasn't he? Whose to say he was right about the hoax?" Reid asked.

JJ sighed, "I just think we need a little more evidence before we say for sure that the entire town went mute. Vampires are one thing, but a whole town? That's just slightly too much."

"We follow where the evidence takes us, JJ. No matter how improbable," Reid reminded her.

"I know, believe me Reid, I know."

"What do you think he meant when he was talking about monsters running the town?" Reid asked.

JJ shrugged, "It makes sense, considering how far Officer Crainyard was going to hide the evidence of the vampires. Do you think he has a deal with them?"

Reid frowned, "It's possible that he made one to protect himself and his team, but considering the fact that one of the vampires attacked Officer Warden, he would of had no reason to keep the deal."

"Unless, the deal wasn't to protect anyone. What if the deal was made to stop Sunnydale finding out," JJ mused.

Reid shook his head, "Doesn't make any sense. Crainyard has no incentive. The townspeople finding out about vampires would help him. Someone else must of ordered it."

"So we just keep looking up the chain then? Crainyard's boss might of issued it," JJ said, "Anyone above him could of made the deal." JJ felt a new wave of hopelessness go over her, "How far up do you think this goes?"

"I doubt it's too high. With that many people on the grapevine, it was bound to of spilled. The person who ordered the deal is a Sunnydale citizen. Someone high up, lots of power."

After a few minutes of silence, JJ felt a lightbulb go on above her head, "The Mayor!" JJ exclaimed, "Garcia was talking about him, remember? She found the photos of the town's last mayors and they all looked exactly the same."

Reid nodded, "Yes, the dopplegangers."

"Well you were talking about incentive and what's more incentive than trying to hide what species you are?" JJ told him, "Mayor Wilkins the Third was a vampire! What if he made Sunnydale a haven of sorts for his species, let them eat all the people they want and sending his police force to clean up after them? And if the human citizens found out, imagine the panic. Wilkens would of probably been killed, along with all the vampires in this town."

Reid took in the information in a second, "It fits the evidence."

"And we go where the evidence takes us, don't we? I think we need to do some more digging on the mayor," JJ said, as she reeved up the engine and started the drive back to Sunnydale.

* * *

><p>Ha. That definitely didn't take me 3 months to publish. Ha. Haha. Right. Sorry.<p>

Real sorry about all the long waits. With school and other stories, this one has really fallen down my priority list. But this story will reach an end! Someday, like 10 years maybe. Anyways, hope you liked. Bye.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Reid stood outside of door #321. It was just like every other college dorm room hallway, with students wondering around in pyjamas and looking stressed. He could even hear a young couple arguing in a room a few doors down. Ah, college. He didn't miss it one bit.

He couldn't help but stare at door #311 when they had walked by it. It had been the room where the boy was murdered when the town had gone silent. He and Morgan had debated going inside, before they figured that all the evidence would of been hidden by the police by now. Instead, they had walked by to room #321, where Buffy Summers was supposed to be living.

Morgan knocked on the door.

"One second!" A voice came from inside. A young, redheaded woman opened the door. Reid peaked into the room. It looked normal enough, two small beds, various clothing strewn around. Everything was normal, except for the strange circle of candles in the middle. She looked confused at the two of them and said, "Can I help you with anything?"

Morgan stepped in, "Good afternoon Miss. We're Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid, does a Buffy Summers live here?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, "What do you want with Buffy?"

"We just need a few questions answered," Morgan continued.

"Oh, well that's good then. I think she's at the Magic Box right now," She said.

"The Magic Box?" Reid asked.

"Un huh, the one with all the witchcraft stuff," She said, as if there was nothing weird about it. Morgan and Reid shared a look of _honestly? A magic shop?_

At their look, she blushed and continued, "You aren't from around here, I guess."

Morgan shook his head, "No Miss. If you have any directions, it would be useful."

"Sure, it's just down on Main Street, across from the movie theatre. We only have one, so it's easy enough to find. But, what does the FBI want with Buffy? She hasn't done anything."

Morgan gave her a friendly smile, "Just a few questions about the night time attacks."

As soon he said the words, she straightened up, "The animal attacks, right? What would Buffy have to do with that." She let out a nervous laugh.

Reid could hear the lie as soon as she said it. Her voice had changed pitched and the laugh made it obvious. More than that, it meant she knew the attacks didn't have anything to do with animals. Another person who knew something strange was up with Sunnydale, "Your name, Miss?"

She swallowed hard, "Willow Rosenberg."

"Thank you for the help, Ms. Rosenberg," Reid said, "I'd recommend that you shouldn't leave candles in the open like that. They're easy to step on."

She squeaked and closed the door a little tighter, "Oh! Thanks, it's just part of a science experiment, you know, chemistry. Oxygen and Nitrogen and all those other molecules."

Another lie. Reid didn't comment on it this time though.

"Thank you again, Ms. Rosenberg. We'll be leaving now," Morgan said. The pair of them left.

* * *

><p>They got into the car.<p>

"So, the Magic Box, huh," Morgan said, "Think it's a joke?"

Reid shook his head, "She wasn't joking."

Morgan just shook his head, "This town," He let out a small chuckle, "It's like they're in an episode of Twilight Zone or something. I mean, vampires? Strange murders? A witchcraft shop? What's next, a werewolf?"

"At this point, I wouldn't be surprised," Reid muttered.

"Surprised?" Morgan exclaimed, "You were never surprised, not by vampires, not by our creepy dopplegangar vampire mayor. You've been treating this entire case like a trip to the super market! Ooh, let's thrown in some vampires into the cart, how about a zombie or two?"

Reid shrugged, "Just following the evidence, like we do on every case."

"Well yeah, but this isn't every case. This is vampires, stuff that's only supposed to exist in movies, not real life. I mean, how many murders in how many town were caused by vampires? How many people were killed by them, but the blame was put on someone else? How many innocent people did we arrest?" Morgan asked, "And how many more people were killed because we never caught the real killer?"

Reid looked down, "I don't know."

Morgan scowled, "The first time I want an incredibly long explanation and you don't know."

They drove in silence.

* * *

><p>By the time they made it back to town, it was past sunset. The store was a small, dingy building with a bright lettering reading: Magic Box. The blinds were closed and the lighting outside the shop was dim. Reid hopped out of the car and headed towards the door. He opened it and almost fell over in surprise. The old, decrepit building was a large, clean one that had customers milling around. Huh, Reid thought, he hadn't been expecting that.<p>

He spotted Morgan heading off to talk to the cashier, a chirpy looking girl with short brown hair.

"Good afternoon Ms," Morgan said, standing beside a customer.

The girl glared at him, "Go to the back."

He sighed and held up his badge, "FBI, Ms, this is important."

The girl fixed him with an annoyed look, "More important than my customer? More important than my money?"  
>The customer looked at her, warily.<p>

The cashier smiled brightly, "I value your wallet."

The customer gave her a glare, before grabbing her purchases off the counter and leaving the store quickly.

The cashier waved, "Please come back!"

Morgan coughed, "Is there a Buffy Summers here?"

She nodded, "In the back, training." She gestured to a curtain doorway.

"Training?" Reid asked.

She nodded, "Buffy!"

No one came out.

"It's fine," Reid said, "We'll let ourselves in."

She nodded absentmindedly, counting the bills.

Reid lifted the curtain to the side and stepped into the other side. The back area was covered with mats and the walls were filled with knives, bows and arrows, even ninja stars.

Reid pointed to a set of pointy wooden stakes, "Looks like we came to the right place."

At Morgan's blank look, Reid mimed stabbing him in the heart. Morgan's expression didn't change. Instead, he approached the girl in the back.

She was facing her back to them, upside down in a handstand on top of a gymnastic horse.

"Good afternoon, Ms," Morgan said.

"Huh?" Then, she collapsed onto her stomach, "Ugh."

"Sorry," Morgan apologized, offering a hand to help her up. She took it and faced them. Buffy looked different from the time they saw her in the dark, with a ripped up sweater and tiredness evident. Here, she looks calm and collected.

Buffy frowned at them, "This is a staff only section. The stuff here isn't for sale."

Morgan shook his head, "We aren't customers. FBI, SSA Morgan and that's Dr. Reid."

Realization dawned in her eyes, "I've met you before, haven't I? It was dark."

Morgan nodded, "That was us. Your sweater was ripped from running into a branch." He made it clear that he knew the last part was a lie.

Nervousness flashed through her eyes, "I'm just a bit clumsy."

"That handstand certainly didn't look clumsy," He told her.

"I've been taking gymnastics since I was young. Look, why are you here? I told you that I hadn't been attacked that night, if that's what this is about," Buffy said.

Reid shook his head, "Actually, this is about a statement that was taken from you on the parent teacher night of 1998."

"Oh, that thing. A gang on PCP, wasn't it? I don't remember too well," Buffy lied. Reid had to admit, she was good at it. She didn't use any of the usual mannerism they were trained to spot. The only thing that gave her away was the way she'd play with her hair, taking it out of her ponytail, fiddling around with it. But other than that, it was barely noticeable.

"Well the official report stated that you managed to crawl through the vent and that you tried to help the one parent who died. We just wanted to ask if you had seen anything suspicious through the vents. Such as pale people with pointy teeth?" Reid hinted.

Buffy's eyes narrowed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm warning you, Ms, holding information is considered a crime," Morgan warned.

Suddenly, a voice from the other side of the curtain screamed, "Buffy!"

Buffy sprinted to the curtain and threw it open. Morgan and Reid followed as soon as they heard screams.

Reid walked into chaos. Customers were screaming and huddling against the walls. The cashier had ducked behind the counter and Buffy was standing barely even two feet away from a disfigured man in a defensive position. If they fight, Reid realized, Buffy's going to loose. The man was at least two feet taller than her, with muscled arms and legs. His face was horrifying. Ridged and yellow eyes, a victim of plastic surgery gone wrong and a raging alcoholic. But Reid remembered the face of Samantha Wong on the security tape when she killed Officer Warden. She had barely faced the camera for a second, but Reid could still remember her face. Ridged, just like this man.

He scowled at her, "Slayer! I'm here to kill you!"

"During business hours? Really?" Buffy retorted, "Anya! Stake!" She yelled, dodging a quick punch from the man.

The cashier fumbled around the desk for a second, before she pulled out a long, wooden stake. She threw it to Buffy, "Don't let him hurt the merchandise!"

"Not my highest priority right now!" Buffy said, strained as the man kicked her down.

Morgan reached for his gun, "Sir! Step away form the girl!" He yelled.  
>The man just looked at him and laughed. It had, however, distracted him from crushing Buffy. The two continued to fight. The cashier grabbed the register off the counter when they got too close.<p>

Finally, Morgan got a clear shot. He fired two bullets into the man's head. Reid looked away when he fell on the floor, limp.

"Everyone, calm down. It's alright," Morgan said.

"He's not dead!" Buffy insisted.

"Ms, not the time!" Morgan responded, "Now someone call 9-1-1, get an ambulance and the police."

Morgan went quiet as the body of the man, the man who had just been shot by two bullets, rose. The holes in his head knitted them selves back together. He looked right at Morgan with his unnatural, yellow eyes.

"You'll pay for that!" He lunged. Morgan would of gotten his throat ripped out, if it wasn't for the stake that landed in his chest. Reid watched in fascination as an expression of agony took over his face, before he disintegrated into gold dust.

Holding onto the stake, was Buffy herself, "I guess we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

><p>Woah two chapters in the same month? Are pigs flying? Haha. This is actually the fastest update, as well as one (if not the) longest chapters of this story. So, thanks again to everyone for reading. I hope you enjoyed.<p> 


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